


The History Of Us

by Meridian (Meri)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: First Time, Futrue Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-01
Updated: 2001-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:43:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meri/pseuds/Meridian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been rumours about Bodie and Doyle for years.  They just weren't true before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The History Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This story is not meant to infringe on the copyrights held by anyone having anything to do with THE PROFESSIONALS. No profit is being made and I promise to return the characters when I'm done with them.

"I know you and Bodie are close, closer than most partners..." Harry Malone, the new controller of CI5 paused and met Doyle's eyes. "Closer than most married couples."

It took a second for Malone's meaning to penetrate Doyle's brain. "Sir?"

The stare got harder. "You know what I mean."

Doyle cleared his throat and continued to hold Malone's eyes. Talk about hoisted by your own petard. He and Bodie had played with the rumours about them for years. But that did not make them true. And looking at his new boss, clearly he would not believe that they weren't true.

"Um..." What could he say? He dropped his eyes. To deny it would only give more credence and make him look like a fool or worse yet, disloyal to Bodie. So now they were going to make it official? Doyle could feel the flush start at his neck and work its way up to his hair line.

"No need to be embarrassed, man." Malone's cultured voice cut through Doyle thoughts. "I'm only saying this so that you'll both know that it won't be a problem." Malone paused and then went on in a more strident tone. "As long as you're discreet."

So discreet as to be non-existent. "Uh... yes, sir."

"I've told Bodie the same thing." No doubt. And Doyle wondered what Bodie had to say about that. "And since you're both out of the field now, it's even less of an issue."

Actually, Doyle would have argued that point, if it were an issue at all -- which it wasn't. "Yes, sir."

"How are you settling into your new offices?" Malone sudden subject change made Doyle blink.

But he rolled with it, sensing that Malone was as embarrassed by this as he was, although for very different reasons. "Fine, sir. We'll be presenting our paper at the international anti-terrorist conference next month."

Malone smiled. "Very good. Do you have an outline I can review?"

Nodding, Doyle pulled some papers from his case, and began a short briefing for his boss.

As soon as he could, he escaped back to his office, closing the door, he leaned against it, forcing his breath to even out.

Christ, what was he going to do about this?

It wasn't that he had a problem with the rumours in theory. He loved Bodie. And at any time during their long association, had Bodie even intimated that he'd be interested in a roll between the sheets, Doyle would have slept with him in a second. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for Bodie.

Were he honest with himself, he'd admit that he'd half-fancied Bodie since he'd met him - not enough to press the issue, not enough to go against the dictates of society, but enough that if Bodie were interested he'd have been ready to try it. But Bodie had never been interested.

With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the door, looking around at his new office. These days, a senior analyst in CI5 was a posh job and paid a decent wage. Came with an office of his own and real wooden furniture, too. A far cry from the WW II surplus furniture that George Cowley insisted on for everyone, including himself.

Never having thought he'd live to collect his pension, this office and all that went with it was something of a surprise to Doyle.

His eyes lit on the picture on the credenza behind his desk. He and Bodie, ten years ago, clowning around after an office Christmas party. Maybe he should take the photo home.

The thought brought him back to the issue at hand. How could he and Bodie have allowed things to get this out of hand? The rumours had existed for years, almost since the day they'd been partnered, and had continued to flourish, even while both of them had been married. Their divorces, too close together, had added fuel to the flames. Until now, when the joke had become fact.

In every way except one.

"Doyle?" Bodie entered without knocking, startling Doyle out of his thoughts. "You talk to Malone?"

"Yeah, and he thinks we're ... closer than some married couples." Doyle tried to mimic Malone's posh tones.

Bodie laughed, and then looked closely at him. "You're upset about it?"

And Bodie wasn't. Typical. Leaning back in his chair, Doyle shook his head in disgust. "Got it in one."

A smile still played at Bodie's lips, trying to break out onto his face. But he fought it back. "Why? I think it's hysterical."

Trust Bodie not to see the problem. "Everyone thinks we're not only gay, but together as a couple."

Shrugging his shoulders, Bodie met his eyes. "So?"

"So. It isn't true."

"Does it matter that much?"

"Only if I want to ask someone else out."

Bodie snorted. "Since when have you done that? Last I heard, you hadn't dated anyone in months, were taking celibacy to new heights."

More like three months, but... "That's beside the point. I'd like the option."

Something dark passed across Bodie's face, but was gone before Doyle could focus on it. "Is there someone you'd want to ask out?"

"Not at the moment, but there could be." In the future, the far future when things were different and possibly settled, then Doyle might try and date again. But not now.

A sly smile dawned on Bodie's mouth. "When there is, do it. I'm sure she'll say yes."

"How can you be so sure? Especially if everyone thinks we're gay."

"Tell her she's the one to change you." Bodie laughed again, and danced out of the way of Doyle's punch. "Seriously, only Malone believes it."

"I don't think so." Doyle shook his head. He knew that if Malone believed it then everyone believed it, especially since neither of them dated as they once had.

"Then, there's places other than work to find a date." Moving some papers aside, Bodie sat on the edge of the desk. "We need to talk about the paper. Did Malone give you any comments?"

Doyle wasn't ready to change the subject. As he saw it, there were two options. "Maybe we should see less of each other?"

The hurt, quickly hidden, on Bodie's face didn't surprise him. He should have known what a comment like that would do. But it was one of their options, albeit not a very good one.

"What good would that do? We've had years of playing to our audience. Besides which, I don't want to see less of you."

Neither did Doyle. Despite sometimes driving him round the bend, Bodie was his dearest, closest friend. And the thought of not seeing him, hurt. "I'm sorry. Was a stupid suggestion."

Knocking Doyle's shoulder in forgiveness, Bodie smiled. "Too right. Now let's work on the report. And then we can go home."

Home. Home to one of their flats, where they would eat dinner and watch the game. And if it went too late, sleep on the sofa. All without a thought.

*****

Doyle stepped out of the shower, and dried himself off, walking naked into his bedroom. His back ached. Too many years of abuse had caught up with him this year. The doctor had given him some cream to rub in, but he couldn't get it on right. Needed Bodie for that, didn't he. Slipping into bed, he pulled the sheet over his arse. "Bodie?"

"What?" Bodie appeared in the doorway, loose grey-cotton tracksuit trousers clinging to his hips, a singlet showing off more skin that he usually allowed.

With their less active lives, Doyle had expected Bodie to put on a little weight, but the contrary bastard had started to work out regularly at a local gym and was nearly as fit as his best years on "A" squad.

"Rub the cream into my back for me?"

Sighing, Bodie took the tube from him, an exceptionally indulgent expression on his face. "The things I do for you."

Yes, exactly.

Settling cross-legged on the bed next to him, Bodie bent to his task.

Doyle flipped the channels on the telly with the remote, finding the game and settling more comfortably to let the cream and Bodie's fingers work their magic. Drifting along in the pleasure of the movements, Doyle let his mind go. As the rough fingers made contact with the small of his back, Doyle idly wished that they would move lower, caressing him more intimately.

He blinked.

His mind shocked numb by the image his thoughts had betrayed. He went rigid with the impact and sudden desire, his cock filling, hardening, aching for something he'd only put a name to a moment ago.

Why now, after all this time?

As if he didn't know. Malone's little talk had obviously released some hidden demon in his mind and now he was stuck with a vision he could not deny. A clear image of Bodie's hands on his body: sliding over him, holding him, stroking him, giving him pleasure beyond any he'd known. And he knew it would come true.

So, it looked like it would be option two after all. Despite all of his protestations to the contrary, all that they had was each other and that might not be such a bad thing. Who else had they turned to in the past?

The caressing hands on his back stilled its movement. "Doyle?"

He couldn't move without giving himself away, as if there were a way to keep this from Bodie. Turning his head, knowing the truth was in his eyes, knowing there was no way to hide and not sure that he wanted to anyway, he met Bodie's gaze. Desire warred with common sense, but he could see an answering call in the blue eyes. Bodie knew what he was thinking. The conclusion was foregone. "Yes?"

Without removing his hands from Doyle's back, Bodie shook his head, a frown appearing. "No. I'm not sure."

He didn't have to say any more than that, Doyle understood. "Me neither."

"What do we do?"

"Make the rumours true?" Up until a moment ago, he would not have thought that it was a possibility, but the desire that had been missing presented itself, and now Doyle knew there could only ever be Bodie. Sitting up, the sheet pooled in his lap, but leaving the rest of him bare.

Bodie's eyes flicked down his body and then up to his face. "I'm not sure I'm ready to do this."

"You've seemed more than ready for years." He could not believe that Bodie wouldn't readily agree.

"That wasn't real. Was having a good time of it. This..." He waved his hand to encompass both of them. "Is real."

"So is this." Doyle reached out and brushed the tented trousers, his own hard-on safely hidden beneath the gathered fabric.

Jerking back from the touch, Bodie shook his head. "Don't."

"Why not? You've been touching me up for years."

"Not like that."

It had certainly felt real to Doyle. He'd had those hands on most parts of his anatomy. "How many times have you grabbed my arse as I've walked in front of you? How many times have you goosed me or stroked me or fondled me?"

"Was just for fun, wasn't it?"

Catching Bodie's eyes, Doyle bored in. Was it? "You knew we would someday get to this point, didn't you?" The desire had come as a surprise, but not an unpleasant one - only a revelation that this was the way things should be. As if the blinders had come off of his eyes and now he could see the future. And the future was Bodie.

"Who was telling me today that we should back off?"

Bodie couldn't mean that. "And who was telling me that he didn't want to?"

Shifting, Bodie looked around, perhaps for an escape route. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't move. To stand, Bodie would have to climb over Doyle to leave the bed.

"You don't want to do this, do you?" There was a note of pleading in the tone as if Bodie wanted him to deny it.

But he couldn't. This... whatever it might turn out to be, was too important to lose. "I'm considering it."

"Not without me."

That Bodie would not agree, had not even entered his mind. "Why not?"

Shaking his head, Bodie looked at the wall. "Because it's not what I want."

The words hurt, worse than Doyle would have thought possible. He took a breath and turned his head away, too.

But Bodie had seen the hurt anyway. "No. Doyle. It's not like that. We were not meant to be lovers."

"What are we then? Friends who can't be anything more to anyone? Destined to always be alone? *I* don't want that."

"What are you talking about?" Bodie climbed over him to stand. The front of his trousers round with half-arousal.

"Did you ever wonder why *both* of our marriages failed?" It was so clear to him, even then, but at that time, he could not consider any other possibilities. Now, with age came a little wisdom, or perhaps the ability to see other options more clearly.

"It's quite simple. Neither of them could deal with the job." Which was true of both of their ex-wives, for all that it wasn't the whole truth. Bodie's eyes said he knew it too.

Doyle met the look. "And that we were unable to connect with them or anyone else for that bloody matter. I loved Sheri, but not as much as I loved you." What a relief to say it out loud.

The panic in Bodie's eyes shocked him. Bodie shook his head. "But you don't love me like *that*."

Sighing, Doyle knew that would always be Bodie's best argument. And unfortunately, he wasn't completely wrong either. He wished he had a better answer. "I could."

Shaking his head, Bodie took a step back, coming up against the wall. "I won't be an experiment for you."

No. There was too much at stake for that. "I'm willing to give it a shot." Nothing could be worse than what they had now. A kind of half-life, where they fucked the birds and turned to each other for everything else. Bodie had to see that.

"You've said." Posture straight, Bodie leaned further into the wall.

Doyle would have liked to have stood to face him, but being naked didn't suit the situation. "And I meant it. I want to try."

His eyes dropping, Bodie shook his head again. "Know you do. But..."

"Look at me." And Bodie met his eyes. "I want to kiss you."

"No." Taking a breath and then another, Bodie closed his eyes, and his trousers tented out again with the opposite answer.

"Yes." But Doyle didn't move. Bodie had to come to him. "Now."

His face like a thunder cloud, Bodie stalked the few steps towards Doyle. Half-expecting violence, and pleasantly surprised when the hand that cupped the nape of his neck was gentle, Doyle leaned up to meet the soft lips.

Two hands held his face, and Bodie's mouth feathered across his, tongue sliding forward to lick at his lips until he parted them. Doyle had to close his eyes then, as he sank into the kiss, desire flaring hotly. Reaching up with his hands, he found Bodie's shoulders, urging him down to the bed.

Abruptly, Bodie pulled away, breathing rapidly, and holding a hand to his mouth, eyes darting around the room - settling anywhere but on Doyle.

Doyle shook his head. "What's wrong now?"

"You said you wanted a kiss. I gave you one, didn't I?" Bodie's breath had not come back yet, and he sounded winded.

"Want another one." More than one. Doyle wanted to kiss Bodie for an hour and then go on kissing him for the rest of his life.

"No," Bodie said, shaking his head.

Gonna fight him every step of the way, wasn't the stupid prat? "Yes. Come on, Bodie. I know you enjoyed that."

"Too much." The words were strangled, pulled from him as if without consent.

"There's no such thing as too much. It's supposed to be fun."

Wrong thing to say. Bodie stood back. "It's more than that between us, much more."

"You're right. Talk to me."

With a windy sigh, Bodie dropped to sit on the bed. "This is never going to work for us."

"You keep saying that. Don't you want it to?" But Doyle could not believe that Bodie didn't want what he did.

Closing his eyes, Bodie shook his head again. "I don't want to risk losing what I already have with you for some damned fool notion of what we *might* have."

"I'll never leave you." That was a final truth. He could not live without Bodie in his life. Now all he had to do was make Bodie see that. No small task from where he was sitting.

"Even if we're only friends?"

"Even then."

"Then why do you suddenly want more?" Plaintive, almost a whine, Bodie's tone spoke more of exasperation than of anger.

Only the truth would do. Doyle sighed. "Because I'm tired of sleeping alone. And so are you."

Stiffening visibly, Bodie's hard eyed stare pierced Doyle. "I'm not a convenient lay."

"No." Well, not exactly. "You're important to me. Very important." And if Bodie didn't know that by now, then he was the one with the problem.

Bodie shook his head. "I'm your friend -- just your friend."

"It's more than that."

"But not enough. Not once have you said you're attracted to me or that you lust after me. Not once have you said you loved me."

"You turn me on." Doyle removed the sheet, his cock revealed at attention.

Bodie brought his eyes back to Doyle's, but it looked like it took effort. "It's not the same. You... me... we turn on easy. But what about the rest?"

Something in that thread of logic caught in Doyle's brain. Maybe Bodie had felt something that he'd not let on about. "You're truly attracted to me, aren't you?"

Taking another step back, Bodie studiously avoided looking at him.

"You are, aren't you?" Doyle could not hold back a grin, finally they were getting somewhere.

But Bodie didn't seem to appreciate it. He frowned. "Doesn't matter, if you're not attracted to me, now does it?"

"What makes you say I'm not?" Doyle asked, wondering exactly how Bodie thought he knew anyway.

"Would have said something before now, were it true."

Something missing in that logic, Doyle was sure of it. "Not necessarily." He looked at Bodie, really looked. He'd always thought Bodie was an attractive, handsome man. Someone he'd always felt safe with, cared for. There was not one single thread of sexual attraction that he could pull out and hold up. It was all wrapped togther with his trust and his love.

"So are you?"

"Sexually attracted to you?" Doyle asked, making sure they were still talking about the same thing.

Bodie nodded.

"Yes." He might only have discovered it, but it was real. And once known, a truth could not become unknown. At least, not by him.

"Right." Bodie was out of the bedroom, presumably headed for the door.

"Wait." When Bodie didn't stop, Doyle scrambled after him, heedless of his naked state. "I said wait." Doyle put his hand out.

"Dammit, let me go."

Dropping his hand without ever making contact, Doyle stood back. "No. You stop when I tell you to. Let me explain."

"What is there to say?" Bodie turned towards him, eyes flashing.

"What I think... what I feel. That's what you asked back there." Doyle took a breath, getting his anger back under control. Damned Bodie was the most frustrating man in the world.

"Don't bother. I know what you feel."

Standing back Doyle placed his hands on his bare hips. "Fine, then. You go right ahead and tell me what I'm feeling."

"You're thinking you're lonely and that I'm someone who will love you," Bodie said harshly, ask if he were offended by the very thought.

"You do love me?" Doyle asked, wondering how Bodie could be so dense sometimes.

Shaking his head, Bodie looked away. "Not like that."

"Then like what?"

Bodie looked right at him and smiled softly. "You're my best friend."

That was part of it to be sure, but not all of it, no, Doyle knew there was more. "It's always been more than that."

"But it's not lovers. Not for you anyway," Bodie said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Which meant that it was for Bodie? "That's what this is about, isn't it? You're in love with me?"

"No." Turning away, Bodie was trying to hide the truth with a acerbic laugh. "How exactly did you come to that conclusion, sunshine?"

Taking a step forward, Doyle put both hands on Bodie's shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles. "Why don't you want to try this?"

"I'm not a ruddy experiment. And don't want to be your last hope." The words were bitter and hopeless. Bodie pulled away.

"No. You're not. Where the fuck did that come from anyway?"

"Nothing." Bodie started across the room.

"Don't think about leaving," Doyle growled, putting the power of his convictions behind the words.

Surprisingly, Bodie stopped, his back still towards Doyle. Tense and stiff, but unmoving. "What would you have me say?"

"How about telling me the truth."

"Told it already."

"I haven't heard it. If I did, I wouldn't be standing here like this." No he'd be in his bed, with the covers pulled up and Bodie keeping him warm.

Bodie turned back. And smiled. "You look right silly standing in the middle of the room naked like that." The smile faded quickly. "Go back to bed. We'll talk about this later."

And if he let Bodie go now, it would always between them, possibly irreconcilably. "No. We'll talk now."

"Then put some bloody clothes on," Bodie said in a strangled tone, his eyes still not looking at Doyle.

"Bothers you, does it? Never did before." Folding his arms over his chest, Doyle shifted his weight so that one hip jutted out a little.

Instead of exploding as Doyle half-expected, Bodie shook his head. "What do you want?"

"Aside the truth from you? The same thing you do." A shiver ran though Doyle; the room was getting colder.

Blue eyes glared sharply. "And what do you think I want?"

Taking a breath, and letting it out slowly, Doyle prayed for calm. "You want to have someone to come to when the day is done. Someone to sleep next to when it's cold out. Someone to hold you and to hold in return. Someone to care if you live or die." Doyle spoke softly, but the intensity of his own feelings carried.

"That's what you want Doyle. Not me." The icy scorn carried as well.

"And you don't want any part of it?" Doyle paused a second and Bodie shook his head. "Then why were you so broken up when you and Claire split?" In all their long years together, the only time Doyle had seen Bodie cry was the night his marriage to Claire ended.

Looking away again, Bodie shrugged. "It's not that. It isn't that I don't want it as much as I don't want it with you."

Something razor sharp sliced into Doyle. Closing his eyes tightly, he had to take several breaths before he could go on. "Why not me?"

There was a long pause, and Doyle opened his eyes, but Bodie would not meet his gaze, shying away, hiding whatever emotions were there. "Because I can't bear to be second choice."

"I don't understand."

Breathing out sharply, Bodie eyes were still down-cast. "You don't want me." And before Doyle could protest, Bodie held up a hand to forestall him. "No. You'd rather have a woman, someone who could give you children. But as you've pointed out over and over, there not one alive who'd put up with CI5, so good old Bodie will do in a pinch."

"We're not talking about a date here, you dumb arse. We're talking about forever."

"I'm still second choice. I'm still not what you want."

"How the fuck do you know what I want!" Annoyed by the implication, Doyle pushed Bodie away.

But Bodie held his ground, clearly determined to make his point. "Because I know you. You want exactly what you said, but you don't want it with me. You want it with a woman."

"Perhaps if I could find one I loved as much as I loved you."

"That's it. You don't love me like that, but we are such good friends, so close, you can't get close to anyone else."

Which is what he'd been saying all along. "Got it in one. It's why we belong together."

"No. It's not." Bodie shook his head. "It's why you would settle for me until you met someone who suited you better."

And then what, he'd leave him? Bodie didn't think very highly of his own charms, did he? "If that were true, I'd have stayed with Sheri. I loved her, but not nearly enough. And what I felt for her pales in comparison to what I feel for you."

Bodie made a noise, starting to speak, but this time Doyle held up his hand and stopped him. Time to set it all out for Bodie and for himself. No misunderstanding on where he stood. "No. Let me finish. Do I love you? Absolutely. Do I want you? Yes. Am I in love with you? Well, that remains to be seen, but I'd say it was likely to happen. And most importantly, will I be as faithful a lover as I've been a friend? What do you think?"

For once, Bodie was silent, looking rather dumb-founded. "I don't know what to say."

Just as well, they had talked enough for a long time to come. "Come here, and don't say anything."

Bodie nodded, pulling him close, and sighed, burying his nose in the juncture between Doyle's neck and shoulder, breathing deeply.

They stood together for a long time, Bodie's hands sweeping across his skin as his did the same to Bodie. Pulling back, Doyle waited for Bodie to look up. And when he did, Doyle kissed him, sliding his tongue into Bodie's mouth, exploring and in turn being explored.

His body's reaction was immediate: desire surged, his breath fled, his cock came up hard, his blood boiled. Reaching out, his hands trembling, Doyle lifted the singlet over Bodie's head, pulling him into his arms again, holding on tight. Home at last.

A windy sigh came from Bodie, but he did not stop Doyle as he shucked off his track suit bottoms, leaving Bodie as bare as he was. Stepping back, Doyle looked hard, noting the details, the beauty and grace that was Bodie.

"You are beautiful."

Bodie smiled with a semblance of his normally cocky grin. "Been telling you that for years, sunshine. You're only now seeing it."

"Slow learner, that's me." Doyle forced a chuckle and leaned forward for another kiss.

Strong arms closed around him, and Bodie's mouth settled over his, Doyle sank into the kiss, drinking in all of the flavours of the lush mouth. His hands slid along new territory, feeling, touching caressing all the bare flesh he could reach.

Borne down to the carpet, he moved his body across Bodie's, skin meeting skin. Oh Christ, he wanted Bodie, wanted to taste his flesh, wanted to touch his body, wanted to join with him in a never ending embrace.

Their grip on each other tightened, fierce and hard, bruising in their need to hold. Doyle was flipped over, pinioned with his arms over his head.

"Be sure, Doyle."

"I am." And he was. He knew this was right.

Bodie brought his mouth down hard, his tongue sliding into Doyle's mouth. His hands were released and the kiss gentled. He brought them up to cradle Bodie's face tenderly, stroking along the rough cheek, fingers slipping into the short hair.

Following Bodie's tongue back, Doyle savoured the taste, a combination of beer and chips and Bodie's own unique flavour. Doyle knew he could let himself go completely and drown in the kiss, but as tempting as the thought was, he wanted more than to be taken away.

His hands roamed freely over the pale flesh, delighting in the resiliency of the hard muscles and the unexpected softness to Bodie's skin. Sliding his mouth away, he kissed down Bodie's throat, pleased with the deep groan that came from his partner.

Clearly he was doing something right. Not that he was particularly worried. Although he'd never been with a man before, he knew how to please a woman, and suspected that the technique wouldn't be that different. What did any person want from a lover: tenderness and generosity. He could give both, planned to.

After allowing him to lead for a time, Bodie turned the tables. Rolling on top of him, and fastening his mouth to Doyle's neck right below his ear, sucking gently at first, then with continued strength. The suction felt delicious, sensitive nerve endings lighting with pleasure.

"Marking me?" Doyle shivered as Bodie's tongue licked across the now-sensitized spot. That would be just like Bodie, making sure everyone knew what was his. Not that anyone thought anything different at this point. But he'd be wearing that mark tomorrow and no doubt, everyone would see it.

Doyle half-expected a growl, or tease as response, that he got nothing except a renewed interest in his neck, which he put off to the distraction of desire and let himself enjoy the feel of Bodie's mouth moving down his throat to his chest.

Nuzzling his face in the hair between Doyle's breasts, Bodie breathed in deeply. "Nice."

"Glad you think so, mate." But Doyle couldn't say more when Bodie's mouth slid onto his nipple, first licking and then worrying it with his teeth. "Christ!" And that was the last thought Doyle had for some time.

He arched up under the caress, which seemed to go on endlessly. Heat rising and falling with the intensity of Bodie's mouth on his chest. Oh, but it was good and hot and sweet. And he wanted it to go on enjoying the sensations forever.

But Bodie had other ideas, and moved down to his belly, licking downward in no particular hurry to get to the point he was wanted the most.

"Bodie, please." The ache had become acute and he didn't care that he was perilously close to begging.

"Soon. Wait for it." At least Bodie sounded as out of breath as he did.

Groaning pitifully, Doyle didn't think he could wait much longer. The pressure was building to nearly unbearable proportions, growing stronger, nearly painful in its intensity. His cock pulsated, growing impossibly harder, the tip weeping clear fluid.

Then finally Bodie had mercy on him, closing his mouth over it, sucking gently, almost as if he were eating a lolly, but not giving Doyle enough to follow through with the promises he'd made.

Another truly pitiful groan left Doyle's lips, but by this point, he didn't care how he sounded. All he wanted was to be released from the terrible wonderful tension that had invaded his whole being and was centred on his cock and the mouth doing terrible wonderful things to it. The world narrowed to the point of contact between lips and flesh, nothing else existed, nothing else mattered.

Almost there, almost -- he cried out as the pleasure crested, taking him home to a place he hadn't ever gone before. Doyle moaned Bodie's name as the world stopped suddenly and then started again, spinning in a new and different way.

Languid after the intensity of his orgasm, Doyle was perfectly happy to let Bodie turn him on his stomach, happy to let the kisses slowly moving down his back keep him drowsily aroused, happy to be pampered and soothed even as he was slipping into sleep.

When his arse cheeks were spread, cool air floating over heated flesh, Doyle could do no more than open his eyes and grunt. "Bodie?"

"Trust me. You'll like this."

His mind still content to drift along, Doyle moved with the pleasure of the finger moving over his arsehole. Languor receded in favour of more pressing desire. Doyle moaned softly as Bodie's mouth made intimate contact with his flesh. Some small part of his mind could not believe Bodie was kissing him there. In that spot. But the pleasure was so intensely magnificent, Doyle did not think of complaining. And it went on and on until Doyle thought for sure that he would die of it.

The first finger went into his body without complaint, sliding in. A bit of counter point to the soaring joy of what else Bodie was doing to him. The second made more of an impact, and the third was definitely felt in direct contrast to everything else. But before he could protest, something bigger and hotter and harder was pressing into him, and that woke him completely, dissipating his pleasure and leaving him unhappy.

How exactly had he arrived here?

"Press back against me, love. It will lessen the pain."

Since the fire in his arse was considerable, Doyle obeyed the command, pressing against the intrusion. It helped. More than he would have believed. And Bodie slid further into him.

"Press back again. Now."

Agony fading to discomfort and then to warm heat, as Bodie's slow movements continued and then changed direction, angling to touch a spot deep within him that blew up with ecstasy. A moan ripped from Doyle's chest, his hands gripped the sheets. Surely one could not continue to feel that and survive.

But thought was a distant memory as Bodie continued to move across the place inside Doyle and nothing in the world mattered, but what was moving inside him.

For the second time that night, Doyle screamed in pleasure as he came, bliss pulsating through him, taking him, creating him in the image of the pleasure he was experiencing.

After a moment or three, he opened his eyes and smiled at Bodie. He was too knackered to even think about talking. "Nice," he murmured as he let sleep claim him.

* * *

Part 2

Bodie didn't sleep. Too much to think about, or more correctly, not think about. He wasn't sure what he could do about this... problem, but he had to come up with something before Doyle woke and wanted them to continue with this lunacy. He simply was not going to allow it, that much he did know.

With Doyle warm and hard in his arms, making plans did not come easily, so Bodie slipped out of bed, and pulled on his clothes, carefully keeping his eyes averted from the ruin of the bed. No use looking for things to change. He knew better than to believe.

Thankfully, Doyle slept hard. Bodie had one moment of panic when Doyle reached across the bed, looking for something, but when he didn't find it, he sighed sadly and turned over, pulling a pillow to his chest.

Slipping out of the flat, Bodie started for the park at a fast jog, breaking into a run as he fled his thoughts and Doyle. He ran hard for more than an hour, but soon gave into inevitable exhaustion. Collapsing on a bench, sweat dripping off him, he tried to get his breath back.

After a time, he looked up, seeing Doyle approach. He wasn't surprised that Doyle had found him. Not that he'd been hiding or anything. "Doyle?"

"I woke up alone this morning." The prosaic tone was in direct contrast to the flash in Doyle's eyes.

He'd expected fireworks, outrage, something more than the flat stare. Perhaps Doyle had had second thoughts, too. And Bodie didn't want to examine how that made him feel. "You wake up alone every morning."

" I thought *this* morning would be different."

Dropping his eyes, Bodie sighed. "Can't imagine why?"

"What do you mean 'you can't imagine why?' Did I imagine last night, or did we agree to have a relationship?"

Standing, Bodie walked a few steps away. "No. You *decided* we were going to have a sexual relationship, then bulldozed me until I gave in and slept with you."

Doyle took a breath, eyes flashing with emotion. "And you didn't want to do it. Raped you, did I?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Bodie faced him. Why did Doyle have to be so bloody difficult? "No. I enjoyed it," Bodie answered honestly.

An almost smug look moved quickly over Doyle's face. "All that yelling was a clue."

The trouble was... "but I don't think this is a good idea."

Annoyance entered the green eyes. "We went through all of this last night."

How like Doyle to ignore the obvious. Or did he think the issue would disappear? "And you never addressed it," Bodie told him.

"Yeah, I did. Weren't you listening?"

"Weren't you?" Bodie felt his blood pressure start to go up.

Putting his hands on his hips, Doyle scowled at him. "So, we're back to square one. I don't understand why you can't accept that this is the best thing for both of us."

"Because it's not."

"Why the fuck not?"

Standing toe to toe with Doyle, Bodie was ready to clock him. "Because I want more than you can give me."

"How do you know what I will or won't give you? Seems to me I gave pretty well last night. Got the pain in my arse to prove it, too."

"There's more to this than sex. Even good sex," Bodie said, doubting sex would ever be one of their problems.

Confusion and hurt clouded Doyle's face, and he closed his eyes, then opening them, pinning Bodie with his stare. "Then what is it?"

How could he explain that having Doyle would never be enough, that he'd rather keep their friendship on that level than risk the loss he feared would come when Doyle grew bored with him. And he would. It was only a matter of time. "Can't we keep things as they were. I was happy." And if not truly happy, than at least content with things.

But Doyle was shaking his head. "No. We've come too far for that, and I don't want to go back."

Bodie collapsed back on the bench. "And I don't want to stay where we are now."

Shaking his head again, Doyle sighed loudly, sitting on the bench next to Bodie. "Impasse. What do we do if we can't go forward or back?"

That was a good question. But Bodie had no immediate answer. "I need to think about it."

"Why are you being so bloody stubborn?" Doyle snapped, his patience seemingly at an end.

Bodie had had about all he could take of this and he wanted it to end. "A mistake now will cost us both everything. And we can't afford to lose it now."

"Haven't we already made the mistake?." Doyle looked straight at him, eyes sad. "At least, according to you."

That startled Bodie. He could feel his heart start to pound. While he didn't think they should necessarily pursue it, he could hardly think of last night as a mistake. To be truthful, it would always stand out in his mind as one of the most beautiful moments in his life. Something to be take out and remembered in detail on night when the loneliness became to great to bear. But to continue or try to replicate it would be fruitless, especially if Doyle's feelings weren't the same as his. And Bodie already knew they would never be...

So, he shook his head. "I..." How could he say it wasn't a mistake without Doyle expecting more from him. "I need some time to think."

"And find a way to walk away from me?" Doyle's words were less dispassionate, his calm cracking under the emotions he must be feeling.

"To find a way to stay. And keep things as they were before." Bodie stood again. Looking down at Doyle, trying to convey that this was for the best.

"You bastard. How dare you decide for both of us?" Doyle asked, barring his teeth when he spoke, every inch the gutter rat that he was. Standing, Doyle took a step forward and before Bodie could even see it coming, Doyle's fist shot out and clocked him good. Not hard enough to knock Bodie off his feet, but enough so that he felt and would feel it for days.

Bodie spit blood, but thankfully no teeth. He made no move to return fire. For some reason he'd never examined too closely, he could not hit Doyle, not matter how much the prat might deserve it. "How dare you do the same thing?"

Looking ready to stamp his feet, Doyle turned away, and then turned back. "Because we both want the same thing."

"Aren't you listening to me?" Bodie asked, taking a step back. He had to get out here. His temper was perilously close to the breaking point and he wasn't all that sure what he was going to do about any of this.

Without looking at Doyle, Bodie turned and walked away. Surprisingly, Doyle let him go without further protest. Bodie wasn't sure if that were good or not. But it would give him time to think, and work out what to do next.

*****

The following week was a vision of hell Bodie had never expected to see. He supposed he'd taken life with Doyle for granted because life without him was difficult, made all the more so by the monosyllables Doyle spoke to him in. Not that Doyle hadn't been angry with him in the past, he had, many times, but not like this.

Not with this... hostility.

By the end of the week, Bodie was ready to fold. If they had to be lovers to have Doyle back in his life, then he would live with it. It wasn't as if it were something he didn't want. He wanted Doyle to feel it, not to want him because he was convenient.

He set his tea onto his desk, and sighed. As soon as Doyle got in, Bodie would talk to him, no use putting off the inevitable, and maybe they'd actually get some work done today. Which brought the point up, where the hell was Doyle anyway, usually he got in long before Bodie did -- when they didn't come in together.

Malone appeared in his doorway, looking grim. "Doyle's been kidnapped."

It took a second for the words to sink in, but when they did the world greyed out as his worst nightmare took hold. Bodie pushed back the fear that threatened to overwhelm him and became the professional that he was. "What happened, and why wasn't I notified immediately?"

Clearly expecting the question, Malone shook his head. "We weren't sure you were not with him."

"And when did you find out I wasn't?"

"Just now."

"I see. What happened?"

"We're not sure. There was a break in the security system at 4:45 am and by the time Anderson responded, at 4:55, both Doyle and the intruder was gone. It looked like there was no struggle, which leads us to believe that Doyle was drugged before he even woke up."

"Forensics? Ballistics? Evidence?" Bodie's staccato tone sounded as if he were the one in charge, rather than Malone.

"Clean. All of it. I've got Susan is running it though the databases. I can only assume that Doyle had made a number of enemies through the years."

That was probably an understatement. No one could work in law enforcement and not have a list of people who wanted to harm or kill them. "All right. What now?"

Malone folded his arms over his chest, and looked at Bodie. "You are not a field agent anymore."

As if that were going to stop him for one second. Bodie shook his head slowly. "This is my partner you're talking about. Do you think you can keep me out of the investigation?"

Straightening up his back, Malone gave him another look that said he wasn't pleased. "Do I need to remind you who you work for?"

But Bodie didn't care. He shouldn't have to explain this to Malone, the man should bloody well understand. "He's my partner."

"No one has thought to ask this, my self included, we've all assumed you were involved. What exactly is your relationship with Doyle?"

Bodie's eyes bored into Malone's, conveying clearly his disdain for the question. But Malone did not back down. Sometimes Bodie took in the posh public school accent and forgot this man was the controller for a reason. He wasn't intimidated by Bodie. But that didn't mean that Bodie was intimidated either. "Exactly what you think it is."

Nodding once, Malone did not meet his eyes, and the tops of his ears were red.

Too bad, Bodie thought smugly. If you don't want the answer than don't ask the question. "Enough of this." Bodie started for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Malone snapped, doing a passing fair imitation of Cowley.

But Bodie wasn't in the mood for it. He didn't care to waste any more time. "The computer centre to talk to Susan. And then out, onto the streets."

Malone took a deep breath, his chest expanding with the effort. "I though I told you not to get involved."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bodie counted to ten and then opened them. "Then, I'll quit."

"I beg your pardon?" Malone's eyes widened, rather comically in fact.

At any other time, Bodie might have been amused by the reaction, but not now. He annunciated each word to make sure Malone could not misunderstand him. "I quit. I resign. I am out of here." He smiled his coldest smile. "Can you possibly think I'd leave my partner's life to anyone else? That's not what I signed on for and not how I operate."

"I've got five of my best agents working on this, do you believe you can do better?" Obviously, Malone did not, as controller he should have read Bodie's file more closely.

Sneering, Bodie met Malone's eyes. "Of course, I can. I've been doing this since before most of them were born. This is not a job to me, this is my partner's life."

"And it's more than a job to them as well."

Bodie didn't bother to answer, knowing it was true. CI5 was a close knit organization, not everyone liked each other, but there was very much a 'one of us' attitude when it came to the people who worked there.

"Stay out of it, Bodie."

There were two men who had ever existed who could tell Bodie what to do and have a high expectation that the order would be obeyed, even if Bodie didn't want to do it. One was dead, and the other was missing. Either way, it wasn't Malone.

"I'm going to find my partner, with your help, or without it, make no mistake about that." Bodie didn't care what Malone did or thought anymore. Doyle was his only concern.

Whether it was his look or his tone, Bodie didn't know, but Malone nodded. "All right. But you'll take Curtis, Keel, and Bacus with you."

Bodie was out the door before Malone got all the words out. Let the children catch up with him, if they could.

Susan's domain had changed considerably from the old days of huge beige units with tapes drives that went on row after row, taking up as much room as a football field. Now neat little servers and patch panels and routers sat in their stead, moving information at a hundred or a thousand times the speed of those old dinosaurs.

Susan was in her office, tapping at a keyboard. As he came in with a knock on the jamb, she looked up, smiling sympathetically. "How are you doing, Bodie?"

"Better if you've got good news for me." Bodie let her compassion pass thought him. He could not begin to deal with it now. He'd already wasted too much time prattling around with Malone.

She nodded, her face going blank. "I've narrowed it down to eight possibles, and three probables.

"Give me the probables first."

"Reggie Hammond. Released from prison about three months ago.

Bodie nodded. He and Doyle had put the bastard away for a particularly vicious armed robbery about 13 years ago. Hammond had cut up one of his own gang when he'd thought the man had betrayed him.

The next name, Jerry Devon, was unfamiliar to Bodie. "Who is he?"

"Someone from Doyle's Met days. He got out about a month or so ago. Doyle sent him up for life, and he threatened to kill Doyle more than once at the trial."

"The last one?"

"Robert Preston."

"Preston? What's he doing out?"

"If you remember, one of the charges was dropped on a technicality, and he got a lighter sentence than he deserved." Susan sighed, folding her arms over her chest, looking as disgusted as Bodie felt.

"Why weren't we notified about his release?"

"We've known about it. Malone didn't think he was a threat."

Bodie snorted. "Yeah, he tried to kill Doyle the last time he got out of prison."

"Hammond threatened Doyle, too. And they are not the only ones and you know it, Bodie."

As much as he hated to admit it, Susan did have a point. "Fine. The others?"

"Here." Susan handed him a list. "When you find the bastard..."

She didn't need to finish. He nodded once, and left.

*****

As he was pushing through the glass doors of the new CI5 building, Mutt, Jeff, and Jane, he'd conveniently forgotten their real names, caught up with him.

"Mr. Bodie." Chris Keel, the Yank, said, his tone skirting the edge of politeness. "Mr. Malone assigned us to you." And clearly Mr. Keel did not like that one little bit.

Too bad. And fuck Malone. He starred down at the three of them and they starred right back at him. The woman, Tina Bacus, reminded him a little of Susan, shorter and darker, of course, but he'd heard she had guts.

And he supposed he'd better do something with them, or they might follow him. Fishing the possibles list out of his pocket, he handed it to Keel. "Here. Go check these out."

He turned toward the door, hoping to make an escape before any of them had any questions.

"Excuse me." This time it was Sam Curtis, formerly of MI5, as if that were any recommendation. "Where are you going?"

Bodie sighed and pulled back impatience. "What?"

"Aren't we the agents, and you're the analyst?" Curtis stood with his feet braced and his arms across his chest -- ever so macho. The other two flanked him. All seeming to say what they thought of Bodie's field talents.

The young pups -- teach you mother to suck eggs will you?

"Too true, mate." Bodie folded his arms over his chest and met Curtis' eyes coldly. "But I did a few other things in my time." And he glared harder. "Now do as I've said." Some small part of him preened in satisfaction as Curtis backed down, dropping his eyes.

He pushed through the door, never doubting he'd be obeyed.

*****

The first stop was Preston's flat. Some insubstantial second sense told Bodie that Preston was the place to start. And that sense had saved his skin more than once. Maybe this time it would save Doyle's.

The address he had proved to be an abandoned building outside the city limits. Bodie searched the place, top to bottom, finding nothing except several kinds of bugs and a few rats.

Bodie called Susan as soon as he was done to see if she could find him another address for Preston. If anyone could find a find information on Preston, it was Susan.

Over the years, she had become CI5's top computer expert, able to hack her way into any system, no matter how good the security was supposed to be. It was a CI5 point of pride that she regularly accessed MI5 and other supposedly secure computers.

Next, he would pay a call on Reggie Hammond. He found the east London address with the ease of someone who'd spent years on the streets. Bodie often thought he'd memorised London A to Zed in the time he'd spent as a field operative. The decaying brick building was nearly a ruin and Bodie wondered if he would make it up the rotted stairs before they gave way.

Knocking once and then again, when he got no answer the third time, he tried the door, not surprised to find it locked. That proved to be no problem, a quick flick from his "key set" and the door was opened.

It wasn't as easy to simply go in as it used to be. He had to have probable cause, if not an actual warrant to make the case stick, but whoever took Ray was not likely to see a trial, Bodie figured it would not matter. He went through the flat. Clearly, Hammond or someone else lived here.

The walls might once have been white, but now they were tobacco yellow, and the room fairly reeked of the scent of it. That and cheap wine. Bodie found several books of matches from the Brass Parrot Pub. That seemed as good a place as any to look for Hammond, especially since nothing else jumped out at him from the debris on the floor.

 

Even more run down that the street that Hammond lived on, the pub was dark and stank of unwashed human flesh. Bodie didn't have any trouble spotting his prey, Hammond slumped on his stool, back bowing outward, drink in his slightly trembling hand.

"Hammond." Bodie put a hand on the man's bony shoulder.

Looking up, bleary eyed, Hammond pulled away once he saw who it was. "What do you want?"

"Now, Reggie," Bodie said pleasantly, smiling evenly. "Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

"Leave me alone." The scent of fear rose off Hammond stronger than the other putrid oders of his body.

"Not until you tell me exactly where you've been for the last twenty-four hours." Bodie leant against the bar, blocking Hammond's escape rout should he think of it.

"Been here or home. You can ask the barkeep. Hey Paulie." Hammond waved the man over.

A fat man, with a couple of day's growth of beard on his face, sauntered over, putting both elbows on the top of the bar. "Problem Reggie?"

"Yeah, tell 'm I was here last night."

Paulie met Bodie's eyes with the kind of arrogance that come from hidden fear. "Reggie was here last night."

Smiling coldly, Bodie grunted. "Until what time?"

"Closed at 2:00."

"And Hammond was here the entire time?"

Paulie nodded.

"Where were you at 4:45?"

"In bed for Christ's sake. Where else would I be? And why do you care anyway. I haven't done anything." But Hammond was shaking. He drank down the remainder of his glass and held it out to be refilled.

It was becoming obvious to Bodie that Hammond was not going to pan out. As much as Bodie didn't want to admit it, Hammond didn't look like he was capable of the amount of planning it would have taken to break into a CI5 home. He and Doyle might be analysts these days, but they still lived CI5 housing for safety's sake. The only real change from their operative days was that they no longer had to move every few months - but maybe they should have done.

*****

Jerry Devon lived in a run down hotel in central London. The kind of place with pealing paint and rooms that could be rented by the hour. Knocking once, Bodie was running out of patience. When no one answered, he tried the knob. It opened under his hand. Once in the flat, he quickly realised he could take Devon off his list. From the smell alone, Bodie estimated he'd been dead for at least a week.

That left Bodie right back where he started: Preston.

He called Susan again, even knowing that nagging her would not help; he couldn't seem to do anything else. It was impossible for him to sit or stand around and do nothing. If he were to stand still for too long, he'd dwell on Doyle and what might be happening to him. And that would do neither of them any good.

. Susan had nothing for him yet, telling him it might take a couple more hours before she could get into all the systems she had to. With more than eighteen hours on the streets, Bodie knew he had to go back to headquarters. No doubt, Malone would require a report on his progress.

*****

"Bodie!" Susan's voice called him out the light doze he'd fallen into.

"What? Did you find something?" Bodie blinked several times, tyring to clear the sleep out of his mind. Glancing at the time, 4:59 am; he'd been asleep for almost an hour.

"Yes." She put her hand out when he started to get up. "It's not going to help you find him, but it's a motive. Kathy Martin died in prison."

"How?"

Susan shrugged. "Fell down a flight of stairs."

Motive enough for Preston, not that the crazy bastard required one. "You still can't find him?"

Looking down, Susan frowned. "I'm looking. It takes time to get into some of these places." Her tone was defensive and Bodie knew he should say something.

Putting a hand on her arm, he squeezed gently. "I know. I'm..." He couldn't say it, but she understood and nodded.

"I know, too."

"Thanks." Bodie stood. "I'm going to get a cuppa, can I bring you one?"

"No. Thanks." She met his eyes. "I wish I could say it would be all right..."

Bodie nodded once and then started for the corridor. "I have to go out."

"Why don't you try and sleep?"

"I must find Doyle."

"It's five in the morning, why not lie down in the lounge for an hour. I should have something by six."

Bodie considered it. Until he had something more to go on, he was paralysed. But how could he sleep with Doyle still missing?

Stepping up to him, Susan's hand touched his sleeve. "How much use will you be to Doyle if you're too tired to move?"

She had a point. He was dead on his feet and he'd only been up twenty-four hours. He sighed. Time was he could do thirty-six hours and catch eight and then do it again. But did he want to be twenty-five again?

There were two other agents that Bodie only vaguely recognized in the lounge, both asleep in the comfortable chairs. That left the lumpy brown sofa, but Bodie wasn't going to argue. At least he could still sleep anywhere.

The next thing he knew Susan was shaking him awake again and a few more hours had past.

"Bodie?"

"You have something?" But he could see from her eyes, that the news was not good.

She shook her head. "I can't find him. But I'm now checking credit card records. If he's used one anytime in the last three months, I'll find him. I'm also checking links to Kathy Martin. I *will* find him, I promise you."

"I know you will. Thanks. Have you had any sleep? You've been here since yesterday, too."

Smiling at him, she nodded. "I caught a couple of cat naps while things process."

*****

Twelve hours later, they were still no closer to finding Doyle. Bodie pulled the Preston/Martin files and rechecked every source he could. He sent the Three Musketeers out to check anything he thought might be even remotely helpful.

Ten years had passed and no one remembered much or cared to be bothered, no matter what the inducement. And Bodie could be bloody persuasive when he chose to be.

Susan continued to search every bit of computerized information, but so far had found little. Bodie tried not to think about Doyle or the fact time was running out. Actually, he was trying hard not to think about anything at all.

As he was getting into his car, after checking yet another useless source, his mobile phone rang. "Bodie."

"Susan. I found a couple of recepts on Kathy Martin's mother, Betty's credit card. Out in Watford Junction, but it was for rope. It's a very long shot."

"But worth a look. Thanks Susan. I owe you."

"Find him, and then we'll settle up. Take this down."

Susan read him the information and promised to send backup. It wasn't much. The place where the purchase had been made and the address for Betty Martin's house on the outskirts of town.

Parking in front of the residence, Bodie got out, and noted the lack of cars in the neighbourhood and in the drive. The locked door was easily dealt with. Once inside, Bodie listened carefully, but not a sound came through the house. His gun at ready, Bodie slowly made his way up the stairs. In the first bedroom he found a body wrapped in a plastic garbage bag. His heart beat double-time as he unwrapped the stinking mess. It was somewhat decomposed, but he could tell it was a woman. The unlucky Betty Martin, no doubt. He called it in.

Finding an unmade bed in the second upstairs room, and recently used by the looks of it motes, confirmed that someone was living in the house. Bodie quickly moved down the stairs to the basement.

Grey concrete walls greeted Bodie at the bottom of the steps. Nothing there, nothing at all. Turning around, Bodie realized the basement was only half as wide as the house. And the patterns of brick was not the same along all the walls. Tapping as he went, he found a hollow half-way across the far wall.

The wooden panel fell away easily when a solid kick was placed on it. And the opening revealed the other half of the room. A hook on the far wall had a naked and unconscious Doyle attached to it. His hands pinioned over his head and his feet bound, Doyle had been badly beaten, his body purpled with bruising, his wrists and ankles bloody from the rope binding his feet and the cuffs on his wrists. He was covered in his own filth, but the shallow rise and fall of his chest was the most beautiful thing Bodie had ever seen.

With one hand Bodie twisted out of his overcoat, wrapping it around Doyle and holding him up. With the other, he hit the speed dial for headquarters. "This is 3.7," he yelled into his phone. "I need an ambo immediately at..." he rattled off the address, "And where the hell is my back-up."

"Right here, Mr. Bodie." Keels voice came back at him. Where had he come from?

Tossing the phone to Keel without a thought, Bodie turned his attention to Doyle. Pulling out the key set, he undid the cuffs that held Doyle aloft. Sagging in his arms, Doyle didn't wake, but did grunt. Bodie supposed that had to be a good sign.

Laying him out on the floor, but not letting go of him, Bodie made sure his partner was wrapped completely in his coat, hoping to keep him warm. "Doyle. Doyle." Bodie slapped his face lighting.

The bruised lids slid open. "What took you so long?" Doyle's voice a bare whisper, almost too soft for Bodie to hear.

"Had to find you, didn't I? Preston? Don't talk, just nod."

"Yeah." Doyle's eyes closed again. And Bodie held him a little tighter.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bodie allowed a shudder pass though him, breathing out heavily. In the distance he could hear the siren grown closer, but they weren't moving fast enough. "What the hell are they doing, walking?"

Keel handed him back his mobile. "They should be here any second." Bodie didn't care to acknowledge the compassion in Keel's eyes.

Three minutes later, the paramedics came down the stairs and seven minutes after that, they took Doyle back up. Bodie rode in the ambulance with his partner, praying to whatever Gods that might be inclined to listen, begging for Doyle's life.

When he was not allowed to follow the trolley past the double doors of Causality, Bodie glared at the nurses, not having the energy to try charming them. Passing back and forth across the small waiting room like some big caged cat, Bodie nerves were stretched taut and he was ready to hit something. It was taking too long.

Malone and some other agents came in at some point, but Bodie wasn't in the mood for small talk or platitudes. He'd run out the ability do anything other than wait earlier in the evening.

After what seemed like an eternity, but had been less than an hour, a nurse came back through the double doors, her face forced into a smile. She approached Malone, but Bodie presented himself at his boss' side.

"Mr. Doyle had a ruptured spleen. His knee has been shattered. He has a concussion and several other serious cuts and bruises. We're taking him up to surgery. It will be several hours before we know anything."

The most important question was... "Will he live?"

She looked at him, and her eyes filled with sympathy. "He's in critical condition right now. We'll know more after surgery."

Bodie nodded once.

"I suggest everyone go home and get some rest. It will be morning before we know anything else." She directed her comments to Malone, somehow knowing he was in charge.

Malone nodded as Bodie shook his head. Not a chance in hell he'd be going anywhere.

"Even in the morning, only his family will be allowed in to see him."

"I'm his family," Bodie told her without hesitation and daring anyone to deny it.

She nodded. "There's a waiting room upstairs on the third floor. One of the nurses can direct you when you get off the lift"

Malone sent the other agents home, and followed Bodie up to the waiting room.

"Is there someone I should call?" Malone asked out of the blue.

Was there? No. Doyle wasn't close to his family. His mother and father were dead. His one brother wasn't much to talk about, they didn't even exchange Christmas cards. And his sister didn't approve of what he did for a living. They spoke maybe once a year. If something... happened, Bodie had her number, but he wasn't sure she'd care to know.

Bodie shook his head. "No one."

"That's too bad."

Shrugging, Bodie walked the length of the small room, turned around and walked back, effectively ending the conversation. He'd rather have been alone, but barring that, he'd ignore Malone.

The night dragged on inexorably, a driving rain pelting the small window in the waiting room. Bodie shivered, trying to keep his mind carefully blank. Now was not the moment to feel anything at all, or he would not survive what might be required of him very soon.

He made no promises, said no prayers and allowed himself no mercy. A long time ago, he'd learned there were no second chances, no grace, no hope. Not for him.

A small sound made him look up as a blue-garbed man came into the room. Bodie was in front of him before he'd realized he'd moved.

"Mr. Doyle came through the surgery very well. But he is by no means out of the woods yet."

"When will we know?" Malone asked before Bodie could get the words out.

Looking concerned, the doctor shook his head and sighed. "The next twenty-four hours are crucial."

"When can I see him?" Bodie needed to see Doyle alive. Needed to be sure of it.

"He'll be in recovery for several hours yet."

"Then I can see him?"

"Are you a member of his family?" The implication clear.

"Yes."

The doctor looked at Malone, who nodded. "I'll have one of the nurses fetch you to ICU when Mr. Doyle is brought there."

After that, the doctor left. Malone said he would be back in the morning and Bodie told him he'd be fine.

As soon as he was alone, a fine trembling started in his hands and slowly moved through his entire body. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, Bodie sank to the floor, his legs no longer able to hold him upright. He took deep slow breaths until his mind cleared and he could stand and go on.

*****

In the early hours of the morning, Bodie was finally allowed to see Doyle. Horrified, by the tubes and wires that ran in and out of him, the machines that clicked and beeped, Bodie was nonetheless very glad to see Doyle's chest move up and down.

Creeping closer, Bodie ran his knuckles down Doyle's face gently, watching the fluttering eyelids for signs of waking, but there was none. Settling into a hard plastic chair, Bodie waited.

Hours past, the night deepened to its darkest moments, and then began to brighten again. Through all the long night, Bodie refused to allow himself to think. Doyle was alive and that was good enough, better than he'd thought to have. Time enough for promises when Doyle was better.

*****

Consciousness came back slowly to Doyle. His last memory told him that against all odd, Bodie had found him. He'd really thought he was dead this time.

Christ, but he hurt. Worse than anytime he could remember. Everything hurt. His arms, his legs, his chest, his fucking hair hurt. Nothing had been spared in the beatings that Preston had inflicted upon him. Starting out with a leather whip, Preston had graduated to some sort of blunt instrument, and then a knife, just sharp enough to cut through his skin. The bastard hadn't wanted Doyle to die too quickly.

Forcing his mind away from the ordeal, Doyle knew there would be time enough to deal with it later. Or not. He wasn't sure how he felt yet. Oh, he knew it wasn't his fault, but the helplessness of the situation would play on his psyche, and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to dismiss the whole thing easily. But maybe.

He took a shallow breath and opened his eyes to find Bodie asleep in a chair by his bed. Dark circles ringed Bodie's eyes, and his jaw and cheeks showed more than a day's growth of beard. Doyle would never be able to express how good it felt to have Bodie there at his bedside.

A wave of deep affection washed over him: he loved Bodie. It wasn't a new revelation, but one he had yet to acknowledge to his partner. And he should. Soon. Or risk losing something he'd only found and now had been given a second chance to have.

Doyle breathed out harshly. Bloody hell. His mouth tasted like someone's old trainers. Given everything, he supposed he shouldn't complain. But he would. Later.

Bodie's eyes blinked open. "Doyle?"

Was he expecting someone else? Doyle opened his mouth to say something but only managed a rasping whisper. "Thirsty."

Reaching for something outside of his line of vision, Bodie retrieved a cup and pressed the straw to Doyle's mouth. He drank thirstily.

"Slowly." Bodie gently pushed and the fringe off Doyle's forehead.

Leaning into the touch for a moment, Doyle then focussed on the present. "Preston?"

Shaking his head and dropping his eyes, Bodie's face had a slight flush. "Still at large. The three musketeers are out looking for him."

Three Musketeers? Doyle quirked an eyebrow at Bodie. "Who?"

"Keel, Curtis and Bacus."

Ah. They had replaced he and Bodie as CI5's best of the best. And frankly, they were welcome to the title. He looked at Bodie. "Want to join them?" Silly question, of course he did.

 

"Had to wait until you woke up, didn't I?" Bodie said it as if it were expected, but Doyle wasn't sure what he had a right to anymore. Hell, they hadn't even been speaking when he'd been taken.

"Go on, then. I'll be here when you get back."

Bodie smiled and touched Doyle's curls again. "Where else would you be?"

In answer, Doyle yawned. The few minutes of conversation had exhausted him, Doyle was too tired to keep his eyes open.

Over the next day or two, Doyle slid in and out of sleep, never waking to find himself alone. It was an unwritten CI5 rule that when one of their own was injured in the line of duty, someone was with them until they were well on the road to recovery. But none of them were Bodie.

On the morning of the third day, Bodie was by his side when he woke, and Doyle felt a distinct note of relief. Sitting up, he breathed out quickly, hoping that his fears would not show.

"Get Preston?" Doyle could see the answer before Bodie nodded.

"Yeah."

"Still alive?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Doyle didn't want Preston's death on his conscious, as much as he wished the man dead.

"Might have been different, had things been different, but..." Bodie shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. "They weren't, so I didn't kill him."

"We need to talk." Doyle wanted the coming conversation over with as soon as possible so then they could go on with their lives, preferably together.

But Bodie shook his head, panic rising in his eyes. He reached out to put a hand on Doyle's arm. "When you get out."

Nodding, Doyle conceded it could wait a few days. "Fine."

*****

Preston had done him a lot of damage. Doyle was horrified to find out his knee had been so badly broken he might never walk without aid again. A second surgery fixed some of the damage, but Doyle had a long road of physical therapy ahead.

Leaving the hospital on crutches, rather than in a wheel-chair was something of a comfort, even if he'd never be able to get along without them. Nearly his entire leg was encased in a cast. And the ache never completely dulled. The doctors said that over time, the pain would ease, but it was likely that he would always have some level of discomfort. Just what he'd wanted to hear.

When he finally got home, it was Bodie's home, not his own. As much as it made sense -- his flat had two levels and Bodie's only one. Not only that, Bodie's house had a garden in back with street access, and his had steps leading up to the front of the building. He was unhappy not to be in his own flat, not on his home turf.

"We need to talk." Doyle sighed. It was time to fix what was wrong between them, before something else could come up and make the chasm bigger.

"What? Now? I was going to make dinner." Bodie started to edge out of the room, clearly wanting to put off the coming confrontation.

But Doyle was having none of it. "Yes. Now. I'm home. I don't want to let it go too long."

"Don't you want to wait until you're feeling better?"

"No." He wanted to table everything and resolve it. Before he ate, before the pain made him any more irritable than he already was. "It has to be settled between us, one way or another."

Coming to stand before Doyle, Bodie put his hands in his pocket and looked right at him. "Fine. I was going to tell you before this happened that whatever you want, we'll do."

Doyle closed his eyes, deliberately swallowing a sarky remark about self-sacrifice. "Just like that? I get to decide."

"I don't care to fight about it anymore, Doyle. If you want us to sleep together, then we'll sleep together."

Not good enough. "I want us to be more than fuck buddies."

His stance widening, Bodie looked ready to do battle. "How can we? It's not like either of us is in love with the other."

Actually, Doyle had thought Bodie *was* in love with him. Heaven knew, he was heading toward that himself. "How exactly do you know how I feel?"

"The same way I know that it will never work. That we'll ruin everything."

"Then why bother trying at all? If you think we'll fail, we will," Doyle said, carefully keeping the hurt out of his voice.

"Because." Bodie turned away, conflict clear on his face.

"Why?" Doyle asked, feeling like he'd missed something along the way. "Why would you want to chance it, if you're so sure of how it will end?"

Turning back, Bodie eyes were bleak. "Because I don't think I can do anything else."

"Why not?" This circular argument was starting to annoy Doyle and the urge to clock Bodie was starting to push at him.

"Because." Bodie looked down and took a breath. "Because I love you."

A wave of the purest emotion went through Doyle. He smiled, the first real smile he'd done in weeks. "That's all right then."

"No. No it's not. You don't feel the same. You never have."

Sometimes Bodie could be so bloody thick. "Of course I do."

"Not the same. I told you. It's not."

"Yes it is, or so close it won't matter," Doyle insisted, trying to will Bodie to believe him.

"Right," Bodie said, his expression sceptical in the extreme.

Doyle had no idea how he could convince Bodie, but he put as much assurance in his tone as he could. "Believe it. I'm serious."

"Since when? Falling in love doesn't happen overnight."

No, Doyle supposed that it didn't. "It's been a slow thing, growing almost without my knowing it. But I realized it when Preston was trying to kill me, all I could think of was that I was never going to see you again."

Bodie looked right at him. "And that mattered so much?"

"You dumb arse, of course it mattered. Would have mattered if I hadn't realized I was falling for you. Made me bloody angry that I'd never get a chance to tell you."

Sinking to his knees before Doyle, Bodie put a hand out. "I never expected to hear you say something like that."

Doyle took Bodie's offered hand, and brought it to his mouth to kiss the palm. Closing his eyes, Bodie sighed.

"Seemed a logical progression to me." Carding his fingers through Bodie's hair, Doyle leaned closer to give him a quick kiss.

"Not to me. Not at all."

Holding Bodie's hand to his cheek, Doyle pulled him closer for another kiss. He opened his mouth for Bodie's tongue, allowing the exploration, savouring the taste.

Unfortunately, even with the pain tablets, Doyle wasn't completely free of the pain, and it put a damper on other body parts ideas on the subject at hand. His spirt was willing, but nothing else.

Pulling back, he smiled ruefully at Bodie. "I think it's a bit soon for anything else. Sorry."

Bodie kissed him again. "Don't be. There's time now."

"Yeah." There was.

Standing, Bodie put a hand in the small of his back, and groaned. "I'll fix us some dinner. And there's a game on tonight."

His throat tight, Doyle nodded and smiled a bit. Yeah, there was time.

The end.


End file.
